Happy Friday everyone! Hope you all are having a good week. Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it!

At Death’s Door by Adam wright

Dee sat at her desk, laptop in front of her, warm coffee in hand and logged into the system. She worked her way through the myriad of safety and security protocols to enter the system. Putting in passwords when prompted, authenticating when needed, and feeling like this would never end, she barely registered Gary walking into her office.

Gary stood there in his slim fit suit, simple black tie and clean cut hair and cleared his throat. Dee ignored him. She opened her inbox and saw the backlog of work she had to do. Overdue on more projects than she cared to count, she knew answering Gary would delay things further. 

Gary knocked three times, the sound echoing in the little office. He wasn’t going away anytime soon. Dee noticed a slip of pink paper in his hand and had the sudden realization that this conversation was about to get serious.

“What do you want, Gary? I’m pretty busy. As always.”

“It’s not what I want. It’s from upstairs. We need to talk.”

Shit. Anything from upstairs was a pain. Hell, anything from downstairs was a pain also. But you can’t just ignore the orders from above, even if the messenger here was the most annoying person in the whole damn office. 

“I’m listening. What do they want?” Dee tried to keep her focus on the laptop but her ears began echoing in her head, the sounds of the outside world trying to crash in on her.

“First off, you have to know, Dee… if I can call you Dee… this isn’t from me.”

“Obviously. You already said it’s from upstairs.”

Gary’s hand shook as he stuck out the paper towards Dee. She didn’t take it.

“Okay, so just, please remember, I like you. It’s bad news but I don’t want it this way, they do. There’s nothing I can do to change their minds. They’re letting you go.”

Dee resisted the impulse to throw her coffee at Gary. She knew that would accomplish nothing. This was the time for a rational adult conversation.

“What does that mean exactly? Letting me go? Do they have any idea how important what I do is?”

Gary scratched at his collar but kept the pink slip in his hand.

“Look… it means what it sounds like. You don’t work here anymore. Your services are no longer needed. In fact, it is kind of unclear what you do. You show up here every day, same time, same coffee in hand. You log in, you go through an inbox and then what? What exactly happens at that point?”

Dee let out a long sigh. Explaining this to Gary would be impossible. Explaining to those upstairs was nearly impossible too. That didn’t mean her services were not absolutely essential. 

“Trust me. Without my services things are going to get… messy. There’ll be a lot of clean up nobody wants. I’m happy to sit here and do my job. I like my job. I’m not bothering anyone else. I just do my thing, wait for the annual check in, and move on with my life. What’s wrong with that?”

Gary crossed his arms, a sure sign he was losing patience. He set the pink slip of paper on Dee’s desk. She didn’t touch it.

“You’re not making any forward progress. Where’s your ambition? Where are your career goals? I mean, you’ve been doing the same thing day in and day out forever. It’s time for a change. It’ll be good for you. Good for all of us. We all need a change. Now’s the time for you to change too.”

Dee rocked back in her swivel chair and took in a deep breath.

“Gary, you have to just trust me on this. If I am gone, this place is going to have issues. Real issues. The people upstairs, and the people downstairs, are going to have to get involved. No one wants that, do they?”

Gary’s expression changed to one of feigned sympathy. Dee didn’t know why the people upstairs were such cowards. They should at least have had the guts to get rid of her themselves.

“I don’t have any choice here, Dee. I can help you pack up. Hell, I’ll buy you an iced latte on the way out. Don’t make me call security. Please?”

“Have they said I have done a bad job? Violated any rules?”

“No.”

“Then what ground do they have to stand on?”

Gary suppressed a small laugh.

“You know they never have been the type to stand on firm ground. But it’s orders. I have to carry out orders. Can’t you just go peacefully?”

Dee clutched her coffee and stood up. She grabbed her gray wool coat and her red leather purse and looked Gary in the eyes.

“I’m not doing anything that isn’t peaceful. I’m just telling you, this is a mistake. And it’s going to be costly. But, as you say, orders are orders. I’ll get my stuff and go. Just remember this: When you all want to bring me back in and ask me to clean up the whole mess, the answer is no.”

Her dignity intact, Dee walked out of the office and onto the street. All she had to do was wait. She was at a busy intersection where cars flew past, bikers made their way precariously in the bike lanes, and pedestrians jostled past one another. 

Twenty minutes later, it happened. A Ford Mustang hit a tan SUV in the intersection, a bicyclist caught between them. A head on collision, one that left no room for doubt about the fate of the bicyclist. Except, Dee no longer had a job. There was nothing she could do. The bicyclist stood, a piece of metal jutting out of his chest. It should have impaled him to death. He screamed in agony. There was still nothing Dee could do. He was going to be the first of many to meet such a fate. Reluctantly, she walked away, feeling the cool breeze on her face.

She walked the earth in those later days, watching all the pain go around, never able to end it. She wanted to help. But death was out of a job.